


Succour

by ardentaislinn



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Lots of Angst, dealing with what happened to trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma just wants to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Succour

The sunshine was bright the day they laid Trip to rest.

If Jemma had been the kind of person that believed in higher powers, she would have thought the universe was mocking them. He was gone – forever – and in her overwhelming grief and heartbreak she almost convinced herself that there was some _thing_ out there more powerful than themselves, just so she could have something to blame. She wished she could throw her closely-held beliefs to the wind lose herself in the comfort of fate and ‘everything happening for a reason’.

Instead, she had been sucked dry of every human feeling until she was left with only guilt and agony. She alternated between the sick feeling of eviscerating remorse and the blissful relief of hollowness.

Not that she was alone in that. No one had taken Trip’s death well. The base was practically silent as everyone dealt with their grief alone, the memory of his laughter echoing in the emptiness of the corridors.

When they had dispersed after the memorial, May had given Jemma a long, searching look before following Skye instead, a gentle hand of comfort resting on the younger agents back. Not wanting to burden the others, Jemma sealed herself away in her room to berate herself for her part in what had happened to Trip.

To her surprise it was Fitz that came to her.

He sat on the edge of the bed she was curled on; not saying anything, not touching her. Just letting his presence be known.

“It’s my fault,” Jemma whispered eventually, saying aloud what she knew in her heart to be true. She saw Fitz flinch at her words.

“You know that’s not true.” His conviction rang so strong that she wished she could believe it.

“I vouched for him. He was on the team because of me.”

“Yes?” said Fitz, clearly confused.

“He might have been safe if I hadn’t.”

“Or Hydra might have got to him. He would have kept fighting them with us or without.”

She shook her head, pressing deeper into the pillow, curling herself around the ball of blame that had settled in her stomach the instant she had heard the news.

“I cleared him for the mission after he was shot,” he voice was smaller now as she tried to hold back the burning tears. “Maybe if he’d been fit for it he could have escaped it.” The tears leaked from her eyes and pooled in the pillow.

“He would have made the same choice again, Jemma. Nothing you could have done would have changed that.”

“Then who _is_ to blame? I need someone to punish for this,” the last words were an angry sob.

Fitz took her hand, squeezing so tightly it almost hurt. “Just…don’t let that person be you,” he told her with fierce entreaty.

They stayed that way for an indeterminate length of time, breathing harsh and ragged as they tried to contain it all.

“You didn’t even like Trip,” Jemma said eventually, perversely lashing out, wanting him to hurt as much as she did. She saw him shut his eyes with a pained expression and felt immediately guilty. _As she should_.

“Everyone liked Trip,” he replied evenly, though she could tell it cost him. “Including me.”

“Then why?” she asked, knowing she wouldn’t have to be specific about his early behaviour towards the other man.

“I always knew how great he was. That was the problem. Because he also realised how great _you_ are.”

“Fitz…” she choked out. He smiled at her sadly.

Jemma hesitated, trying to think through the fog of crushing grief that enveloped her. But she couldn’t and she really didn’t want to. She wanted to _not_ think forever – or at least a little while. With the promise of forgetting hanging before her, Jemma grabbed Fitz’s collar and used it to haul herself up into a sitting position, colliding their mouths together as she did so.

It was not a skilled kiss. It wasn’t even necessarily pleasant, as it was essentially just a clash of lips and teeth. But Jemma continued, pleading with her mouth for him to distract her, just for a little while.

“Jemma…Jemma what are you doing?” he asked, trying to pull away.

“ _Please,_ ” was all she could manage, salty tears still running down her face. But Fitz must have understood her pleading despair because after only a brief hesitation he acquiesced. Now that they were both expecting it, the kiss was more pleasant. But Jemma didn’t want pleasant. Fitz tried to keep it gentle, but that wasn’t enough. She didn’t want seduction. She wanted oblivion.

She kissed him harder and faster until he caught her rhythm, and in no time they were naked in each other’s arms. They clutched each other close as they moved together, trying to find succour in the mutual embrace. Jemma held him desperately, attempting to concentrate only on the feel of him moving within her.

For brief snatches of time it worked. Her body experienced the pleasure even if her mind did not, and that was almost enough to make her forget for seconds at a time.

When her release came, she didn’t feel like she was soaring; she felt like she was drowning all over again.

Afterwards, Jemma stared at the ceiling with her mind slightly clearer, torn between a bloom of happiness and crushing regret. She didn’t know whether this might the start of something with Fitz, or if she had ruined that, too.

His hand slid across the sheet and his fingers entwined with hers.

Jemma allowed herself a small smile.


End file.
